And Now For Something Completely Different
by Bum Russian Elvis
Summary: It hasn't lived up to PG-13 yet, but I'm sure it will. Title is a work in progress. Basically it's about four people from Star Wars are somehow transported onto Kirk's Enterprise. Hilarity ensues. And after 6 months and 4 days, Chapter 5 is up!
1. Transportations & Introductions

Disclaimer: I don't own Wedge Antilles, Wes Janson, Hobbie Klivian, or Tycho Celchu. They're all property of LucasArts. So, no sueing. Oh, and I don't own Star Trek or anything related. I do own this plot, and that's something none of you will ever own unless you offer to give me money for it. So nyah!  
  
Okay, so I had this crazy idea a little bit ago. It's kinda simple, but I think it has potential.  
  
--  
  
Title: And now for something completely different.  
  
Description: Wedge Antilles, Wes Janson, Hobbie Klivian, and Tycho Celchu are somehow mystically transported between time and space to land on the Enterprise.  
  
Chapter One  
  
Wedge sat in his office, feet up on his desk. He had a datapad in his lap, but his head was nodding off into his chest. He was obviously asleep, a fact reinforced by the drool slowly dribbling from his mouth. If Wes had seen him there like that he would have... Well, let's just suffice to say that he would have done something the Wedge wouldn't of liked, but everyone else would have loved.   
  
The datapad gave a little urgent beep as some preset alarm went off. Wether the timing on this was planned or coincidental, it started chiming just as Wedge stirred himself from his sleep. He looked at the pad and checked the messege. At the mere subject, he somehow slouched further into the seat with a groan.   
  
"Ugh... I do not feel like dealing with whatever Fey'lya's got to say. There's a lot of traffic out there. It must've gotten lost." With that, Wedge hit the 'delete' key, sending Fey'lya's messege to hell.  
  
At some strange coincidence, that button also triggered a bright flash. Wedge has never been certain where it came from, but it was almost definatly triggered by the pressing of the delete button. When the light dimmed down, a few papers flitted around, but that was it. Wedge and his datapad were not there, and did not seem to of ever been there.  
  
--  
  
Wes was currently in the quarters he shared with Hobbie messing around with little Ewok figurines and Wedge Antilles figurines. He made his own little sound effects as the Ewok soldiers cornered a group of Wedge's, with a lone Hobbie figure in the midst of them.  
  
"You promised me we wouldn't where womans clothing." Wes said in an awful imitation of Hobbie's voice. "Yes, I did, and I lied because I'm a mean evil person who doesn't let Wes get any sleep except during mission briefings, so he's too tired to know what's going on and will never be able to compare to my flight record though I know that if he knew what was happening and didn't sleep during the briefings he'd be such a better pilot then me." Wes continued, in an even worse imitation of Wedge's voice. "Yub yub, yub yub! SPLORGE! Augh! Stop it please! That's really painfull!" Wes continued, mimicking the Ewoks, and stabbing a Wedge figure with one of the spears. He continued on with these cries of pain in the same awful Wedge impersonation as before.  
  
"Wes, shut up!" Hobbie commanded from the other side of the quarters.   
  
"Why should I?"  
  
"Because it could be considered insubordination to play around with your commanding officers figurines and stab them with plastic spears." Hobbie reasoned.  
  
Wes considered this. "Could it really?"  
  
Hobbie nodded gravely.  
  
For a moment it looked like Wes would stop. It really did. But he didn't. "Oh well, I don't care." With that, he returned to the fake battle, complete with sound effects. Hobbie rolled his eyes skyward, and pulled out a sound sponge, he threw it on the ground and pressed the remote to turn it on. As he pressed the button and sent the signal, another white flash burned through the apartment. When it left, everything was as it was, except that Wes, Hobbie, and the objects they were holding had disappeared.  
  
--  
  
Tycho was outside, enjoying the fresh air and going for a stroll on the planet that the Rogues were currently stationed on. It was a rare moment when they could enjoy such peace and quiet, and Tycho was definately going to enjoy it.  
  
This planet was particularly nice. A nice, peaceful, small-time world with lush vegetation and a beautiful sunset. He knew that he was the only one likely to enjoy this sort of thing among the Rogues, and he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. Of course, Donos would always be coming out and taking a walk, but he would do that to stay in shape and stay disciplined. No, Tycho was the only one who would come out to enjoy the wildlife, enjoy what hadn't been changed by industrialization yet.  
  
As he walked, he watched for local wildlife. He couldn't see anything yet, and soon, storm clouds came out and covered the area. Tycho sighed, and turned to head back to the base. Then he saw a little squirrel-like creature. He smiled at it and slowly approached. It stood up on its hind legs, chattered at him, and then turned off and bounded down the path. Tycho kept smiling and gave pursuit.   
  
How long he chased it, he doesn't remember. Eventually he caught it, however, and picked it up. It chattered and gave some resistance, but stopped as Tycho began to stroke it, murmuring soothingly. It was then that he became away of how dark it was, and looked at his chrono to try and check the time. He couldn't see it well, so he reached a hand to it and hit the 'glow' button. As soon as he touched it, a bright flash tore through the small canyon he was in, lighting it as if it were day for a moment. When the light dimmed, Tycho and the squirrel were gone.   
  
--  
  
On a Starship, millions of lightyears away, a bright flash tore through its rec room. Then four human's appeared there. One was holding a squirrel, another some action figures, the third a remote, and the fourth was holding a PADD of some sort. All looked extremely surprised.  
  
Kirk looked at them, equally surprised himself. He turned to look at Spock, who actually had a small hint of surprise on his face, visible only to those who knew him well, as Kirk did. McCoy, standing behind them and watching their HoloChess game, was currently trying to return his jaw to a more natural position - such as closed and not resting on the floor.   
  
A silence started, with the Starfleet crew looking at the intruders and the intruders looking at them. Finally, the one holding the action figures became aware of himself, holding figures that apparently had a resemblance to the one with the PADD. He stuffed the figures in his pockets and looked at the Starfleet crew. "You guys didn't see any of that, right?"  
  
The one holding the datapad's eyes narrowed.  
  
Kirk frowned.  
  
McCoy, about to return his jaw to its natural closed position, failed as he said that, and the jaw fell again.  
  
Spock, of course, answered him.  
  
"We did see that. You watched us as we saw it. Therefore, that is an illogical question to ask."  
  
The intruder who spoke looked at McCoy, then at Kirk, most likely expecting a more intelligent response from Kirk then from McCoy. "He's a real stiffler, ain't he?"  
  
Before Kirk could reply, Spock spoke again. "'Ain't' is not a word."  
  
"Nevermind. Oh, and hi." He thrust out his hand to Kirk. "I'm Wes Janson. And who are you?"  
  
McCoy was about willing to abandon all efforts at a natural jaw position. Kirk was having trouble keeping his own jaw natural. "Uh, hi..." He said as he tentatively took the proferred hand. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enter-"  
  
Janson interrupted. "Sheesh, I asked for your name, not your life story. So, uh, who're these others?"  
  
Kirk scowled. "I should be asking you that. You are on my ship."  
  
"No I'm not. I'm in my quarters..." He looked around. "Uh, I concede the point. So, this guy here who looks kinda dour and, well, depressing, is Hobbie Klivian. Your little pointy-eared friend here would probably get along with him. Over here wearing black and holding a squirrel - wait, what?" Janson did a double-take at the squirrel-holder. "Hm. It is a squirrel. Funny old universe. Oh, and he's Tycho Celchu. And this mean-looking shorty over here holding a datapad - "  
  
"I'm Wedge Antilles." The one Janson was pointing at said. "And pay no attention to Janson. He has the mind of a 12-year-old, a maturity level to match, but is probably one of the deadliest people you'll ever see in a snubfighter or using a blaster."  
  
Janson looked hurt. "You consider me to have the mind of a 12-year-old? You know that it's nine!"  
  
Antilles shook his head. "You see the point."  
  
"Indeed I do. Now, since you introduced yourselves, I'll introduce my friends. This is Doctor McCoy, our chief medical officer, and this is First Officer Spock. He's a Vulcan." Kirk said, as if that explained everything.   
  
Janson spoke up again. "Ah, I see... And what exactly is a Vulcan?"  
  
McCoy caught his jaw this time and kept it up enough to speak. "You don't know what a Vulcan is? Where have you been the past few centuries?"  
  
Wedge answered. "Oh, if I had to guess, a galaxy or so over."  
  
Spock's eyebrow rose.   
  
Klivian chose this moment to speak up. "I'd say an alternate dimension."  
  
Spock's eyebrow continued its upward climb.  
  
Janson shook his head. "You're both off. We're all in the demented dream-world of an Ewok-"  
  
One eyebrow disappeared and the other began its own climb.   
  
"Wes, shut up." Antilles ordered.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I said so!"  
  
"That's not a good enough reason."  
  
"It should be. I am your superior."  
  
"Yeah, but we aren't in our home, where ever we are. You can't put me up for insubordination." Wes looked triumphant.   
  
"I can when we get back."  
  
"If we get back." Celchu cut in quietly.   
  
That sobered them all.   
  
Wes snapped out of it first. "Well, let's not worry about that now. We've got a whole new galaxy to ruin - and by ruin I mean explore, of course. If only Kell and Face were here, they'd have a field day. Corran might have fun, but he's too much of a Jedi now. Hobbie'd like it - oh, yeah, he's here. Donos might actually let go some more here, since - " Wes's rambling was cut off.  
  
"If I may so inquire, how did you get here?" Spock asked.   
  
"No idea. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, Donos."  
  
Wedge looked at Tycho, nodded, and Tycho whispered something to Wes, who immediatly shut up.  
  
"I'm honestly not sure how I got here. Possibly some sort of freak electrical accident." Wedge said. "The only evidence I have is that there was a flash of light as I hit a button on my datapad here, and then I was here."  
  
"I hit a button on my remote, there was a flash of light, and then Wes and I appeared here." Hobbie said.  
  
"I was looking at my chrono, and hit a button to give me some more light so I could see. That caused a flash of light which delivered me here." Tycho said.   
  
Spock frowned as much as he ever does. "While these three incidents are related - there was a mechanical device activated, a burst of light which delivered you here - it is illogical to think that a mere electrical disturbance would transport three individuals here, as your descriptions of your incidents do not in any way have anything to do with material transporters - "  
  
"Wait, what?" Wedge asked. "What are 'material transporters'?"  
  
Kirk smiled slightly. "It's the official name for the transporter."  
  
"Ah. And that is...?"  
  
McCoy frowned. "You guys really DO come from another galaxy."  
  
Kirk shook his hide slightly. "Indeed they do. Mr. Spock, if you would be so kind, I'd like you to try and discover how these men were delivered here. Doctor, you and I will be finding some rooms for them."  
  
McCoy nodded, and sat down at a computer terminal. In five minutes, he looked up. "We have two rooms that are big enough for two people to share." He announced.  
  
Hobbie looked up. "I refuse to share a room with Wes."  
  
"Sorry, Tycho." Wedge said.   
  
"What?"  
  
"You think that I'M going to sleep in the same room as him?"  
  
"Well, no, but..."  
  
"And Hobbie always sleeps in the same room as him."  
  
"Well, yeah, but..."  
  
"So he deserves a break. Now, what are you trying to say?" Wedge asked.  
  
"My squirrel ran off."  
  
"Your what?"  
  
"My squirrel."   
  
Kirk smiled. "I'll set some of my men on it. Bones and I will take you to your rooms." He then walked to the wall communicator and started talking to it. "Uhura, set two ensigns to start searching for a small brown squirrel on deck 12."  
  
"A squirrel, sir?"  
  
"Long story."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Kirk smiled again, and then waved for them to follow him. "If you'd be so kind, gentlemen." With that, he walked out of the rec room, followed by McCoy, Wedge, Wes, Hobbie, and a sulking Tycho.   
  
--  
  
A/N: Okay, not bad for the first chapter, right? Do any of you even think this is a good idea? 


	2. Squirrels & Vulcans

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot, Ensign Flounderberry, and the squirrel.  
  
Sukuru - The title is temporary. I need something else, but can't think of anything. Probably because I'm tied up with Star Trekking for the Holy Grail and the rest of the Black Author Ser- I mean, nothing, I said nothing...  
  
--  
  
Chapter Two  
  
"I copy, Lieutenant Uhura. I'll get looking for the creature right away." Ensign Flounderberry said. It was his lucky day. He had to go chase a squirrel around the ship.   
  
Flounderberry scowled. He was(n't) an important man; he had (no) important things to do! Running around chasing a squirrel from what could be another galaxy was(n't) a waste of his time! He looked around, scowl remaining firmly in place. It was a huge starship, how were a few redshirts supposed to find a small squirrel? Couldn't they look for the squirrel with the sensors, or something?   
  
Suddenly, Flounderberry sneezed. Great, he thought. I'm alergic to this thing.   
  
Then the meaning of that dawned on him. If he were alergic to the squirrel, and he sneezed, then that meant that the squirrel was nearby. He spun around, and managed to catch a glimpse of a little, blackish-grey tail zipping around a corner.   
  
"HA!" He shouted, and took off in pursuit. He rounded the corner, and saw the blackish-grey tail following a squirrel body of the same color that was slowly pulling away from him. Flounderberry increased his speed and lengthened his stride, but the squirrel kept pulling away. The squirrel ran past a doorway, and it opened as another crewman stepped out. Flounderberry tried to dodge, but still hit him. Luckily, they bounced off eachother, and Flounderberry kept his momentum and footing. He looked over his shoulder and called out an apology as he kept running.  
  
The squirrel continued to gain ground on him, and then another door opened. Unnoticed by the yeoman leaving her quarters, the squirrel veered into the room. Flounderberry twisted his body to try and jump in, but he lost his footing by the sudden change in velocity and fell over, skidding for several feet on the clean floor. The crewman gave him a strange look and began walking in the other direction.  
  
Flounderberry scrambled to his feet, and looked at the door the squirrel went in to. He smiled predatorially; that was the only exit or entrance in the room. He slowly moved in on the target, smile growing. He had that thing now.   
  
The door opened on his approach, and Flounderberry raced inside, eyes searching for the squirrel. He caught a glimpse of it slipping under the bed.   
  
Flounderberry looked around, grin growing. Something he could use as a net... there! Pillow case! He grabbed the pillow and called the case off, and looked under. Two eyes stared back at him.  
  
"I've got you now, you little son of a -"  
  
"Ahem." A female voice said from behind.   
  
Flounderberry had gotten his head under by then, and his eyes widened. He jumped, his head smacking into the underside of the bed. The squirrel, seeing it's opportunity to escape, slashed at Flounderberry's face, and ran out. Flounderberry screamed, and tried to yank his head out as the squirrel ran out, between the yeoman's legs and through the open door, and then down the corridor.   
  
The Yeoman turned around to look at where the squirrel went, then looked at Flounderberry. "So, would you mind pulling your head out from under my bed?" She asked.   
  
"Uh... I can't..." He said uncertainly.   
  
"You can't?"  
  
"I'm stuck." He squeaked, embarrassed.   
  
"You're stuck."   
  
"Uh-huh." Flounderberry nodded as best he could.   
  
"So, while you're stuck, would you care to explain why you're in here to me?" She asked, impatience in her voice.  
  
Flounderberry considered. "Not really, no."  
  
The Yeoman pretended to consider, then nodded. "Okay. Have fun. My shifts in 5 minutes, and my roommate is on the same shift. Enjoy yourself."  
  
"No!" Flounderberry screamed. "Help! Lemme out! No!"  
  
The Yeoman rolled her eyes. "You're pathetic." She said as she walked out.  
  
--  
  
Tycho looked at Janson, who was on the other bed. Tycho had rearranged all the furniture, just to keep as much distance (and as many obstacles) between himself and Janson as possible. He didn't care if it looked good. In fact, he had a straight line of furniture between himself and Janson. It had taken some work, but he had gotten it. Janson was on the inside, and Tycho had a bed near the door. That way, it would help keep Janson in his quarters, and if he tried to get to Tycho, he'd make noise.  
  
With one last inspection of the barrier, Tycho nodded in satisfaction. Perfect.  
  
He looked over his shoulder, and walked out of the room. The nonhuman, Spock, had offered him a tour of the ship when he got off-duty at 2000hrs. Tycho glanced at his chrono, which had been adjusted to shiptime. It was 1949hrs now, he'd just go up to the Bridge and they'd begin the tour.   
  
He got there at 1954hrs, and spotted Spock immediatly. Walking over, he spoke. "Ready to go?"  
  
Spock turned his head and body towards Tycho, and cocked his head slightly to the side, his eyebrow creasing. "I said that I would give you an inspection of the ship at 2000hrs; right now it is 1954hrs."  
  
"Well, it's about 2000hrs - "  
  
"It is 1954hrs." Spock said evenly, not showing room for compromise.  
  
"Well, I'm sure the Captain wouldn't mind if you missed - what, five minutes-"  
  
"5.64 minutes." Spock corrected.  
  
"-5.64 minutes of your shift." Tycho finished without stopping.  
  
Spock regained his classic look, eyebrow creasing again. "I always complete my shift."  
  
"Well, just this once-"  
  
"Always." Spock said.   
  
"Just this once," Tycho continued. "I'll stand over here by the 'lift." He finished.  
  
"That would be preferrable." Spock said mildly. "I will be done in approximately 4.97 minutes." He said. He then turned to his console and did not look up until his shift was over.  
  
Tycho went over and stood by the turbolift. He noticed that the doctor was standing near him. What was his name - McCoy, that was it.  
  
"Just got put off by Spock?" McCoy asked.   
  
"Uh, I wouldn't quite phrase it as 'put off.'" Tycho replied. "But can't really blame someone for being who they are. So he likes to be precise; one out of trillions, what difference does it make in the scheme of things?"  
  
McCoy chuckled. "You really ARE from another galaxy. It's not one out of trillions, it's millions out of trillions."  
  
"You mean - "  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"His entire species is like that? Every Vulcan?" Tycho's eyes widened.  
  
"Well..." McCoy paused. "He's only half Vulcan, and not every Vulcan is like that. Most are, but a lot of them split up centuries ago and went to a planet called Romulus. Thusly, they became known as Romulans. The Romulans are basically Vulcans who give their emotions free reign." McCoy explained.  
  
"Ah. Do the Vulcans and Romulans get along well?"  
  
McCoy snorted. "Hardly. In fact, when Starfleet and the Federation - that's us - were first formed, or around that time, Vulcan and Romulus was just getting into a large war that could have spanned mutliple years, if Starfleet hadn't intervened and helped the Vulcans."  
  
"I see."  
  
Spock came up between them. "My shift is ended. I will now guide you on an inspection of the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701."  
  
"Good luck." McCoy said dryly. "If you're anything like me, you'll never want to see him again by the time your done."  
  
"The feeling is mutual, Doctor." Spock replied.  
  
McCoy scowled. 


	3. Allknowing & Chases

Disclaimer: I'm sure I've already mentioned this. If not, I am now. I don't own Star Wars or Star Trek. I own Ensign Flounderberry and the squirrel. Probably some other stuff. Oh, and the stuff with the sword curtain is Empress Leia's. If you wanna know what it's from, go check out Trading Quarters.  
  
bookwormqueen - Hold yer horses, I'm getting there. But, in all honestly, don't expect regular updates from me. I mean, I love this story, and I think it's one of my better masterpieces, but I'm bad at updating. 'Specially since I have a bunch of big projects in the works, projects that may or may not be related to eachother.  
  
Annnnd.... chapter three!  
  
--  
  
About an hour and a half later, Tycho started to make his way back to his quarters after a retrospectively drab tour of the Enterprise. That's not to say that it wasn't usefull; it was certainly that - Tycho now knew where Sickbay was, and could get to the bridge without stopping to ask for directions. He knew where all the major points of the ship were, so would be able to get there in case of an emergency. But that's about it. Spock didn't show him any of the fun spots, or anything interesting. He did know where the rec room was, so he would be able to work out there and stay in shape. He was slightly upset that they hadn't found his squirrel - he didn't show it, of course, but it was one of his few links to his home universe.   
  
But now that the tour was over, Tycho was reluctant to go back to his quarters with Janson, much less sleep in there. He had informed Wedge about the barrier, who had immediately agreed that it was a good idea. Of course, to Wedge, any idea that humiliated Janson and kept him from roaming an unfamiliar ship while causing havok and pranks and possibly spoiling diplomatic relations between the two civilizations for centuries was a good idea. But mostly just the 'humiliate Janson' part, though.  
  
Of course, Tycho knew that Janson would eventually figure it out. After all, nine-year-olds could, and Janson had made repeated claims to a nine-year-old mind, so he should be able to get out. He was athletic, and probably didn't mind scuffing the furniture. In fact, definately didn't mind scuffing the furniture....  
  
Tycho's mind raced. Janson was probably loose in the ship. That meant that they would have to start another search of the ship, this time for Janson. Just to make sure, Tycho ran at top speed to his quarters. Sure enough, there were scuff marks on the desks and dressers that matched Janson's boots, and Janson was no where to be seen. Tycho swore, and ran next door to Wedge's.   
  
"He's out." Was the simple greeting Tycho offered. Not a hello, not a mind if I come in, not a can I please use your phone; my car broke down and it's terribly cold, wet, rainy, bleak, cloudy, and only getting worse. No, his greeting was none of those. It was a 'He's out.' Hardly polite, but it was all that was needed to spring Hobbie and Wedge into motion.   
  
Wedge's rapid-fire questions came fast and furious: "For how long? When did you find out? How did he get out? Which direction did he go? Who saw him last? What did you have for breakfast a year ago tomorrow?"  
  
Tycho took a deep breath before answering: "I'm not sure, just now, no idea, even less of an idea, probably me, Cap'n Crunch."  
  
"Did you just now answer these questions truthfully, telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" Wedge asked, not pausing to think about the answers.  
  
"I did."  
  
"I wish I had a tape recorder..." Hobbie muttured, and then the three ran off to find one troublemaker.  
  
As they did, Janson burst out of the room across from the quarters that he and his friends had been assigned, shoving the tape recorder that he had into his pocket. Apparently, the owner of these quarters was a bizarre interior decorator or something, and he had nearly decapitated himself on a hanging sword curtain three feet inside the doorway. Of course, the 'Danger: Pointy Objects Ahead' sign should've tipped him off, but he figured that that was more for people like Hobbie who were insecure. Beyond the sword curtain was a white suit that looked strange, and the walls were covered in confetti. Wes made a mental note to ask the owner of the quarters where he got the confetti, so he could treat Wedge's room in a similiar manner.  
  
But on to more important things.   
  
Wes slipped inside of Wedge's quarters, and quickly guessed which bed was Wedge's and which was Hobbie's: Hobbie's was messy, and Wedge's wasn't. So Wes quickly went about sabotaging the bed in any way he could. Then he got the greatest idea ever.  
  
He ran over to the computer and keyed in a request for about 2 gallons of superglue. The 2 gallons appeared out of nowhere right in front of him, which Wes found frightening (He had expected the computer to point him towards the nearest amount near that), but he figured that nobody ever got anywhere by looking a gift horse in the mouth.   
  
Wes put down some superglue all over Wedge's bed, and then some on Wedge's datapad which he had foolishly left behind. He then spilled all the rest of the superglue on the floor, so that Wedge and Hobbie would first have to get through that obstacle before Wedge became stuck to either his datapad, or his bed, or preferably, both.  
  
He then snuck out of the room, to roam the ship at will. He figured that the mess hell would be a good place to begin his self-guided tour, and decided to head there. As soon as he figured out what direction 'there' was. After about half an hour of mindless roaming, he decided to ask for directions, and walked to the nearest door. Since it didn't open, he supposed he should knock, and he did.  
  
"Come..." Came a muffled, miserable-sounding voice.  
  
"Uh... how do I - " The door opened, cutting Wes off midsentence. "Oh." He continued. "Convenient, that." He looked around the room, and didn't see anyone. "Uh.. where are you...?"  
  
"Under here!" The voice came again, sounding more angry then miserable now.  
  
"Y'know, that would be incredibly more helpful if I knew exactly where 'here' was." Janson struck back.  
  
"The bed, you idiot! I'm under the bed!" And, in a voice that was obviously supposed to be under his breath, and also obviously wasn't, the voice added: "Moron..."  
  
"Y'know..." Wes began again, looking at the bed. "I'm not sure I should let you out. You aren't exactly the nicest person, y'know."  
  
"You wouldn't be either if you'd been attacked by a squirrel, trapped under a bed, and left there for over three hours!"  
  
"I concede the point." Janson said, and then lifted up the bed with one hand. "So, you plannin' on comin' out soon, or what?"  
  
The man - who turned out to be a red-shirt-wearing young man, who looked to be in his 20's - scrambled out and stood up quickly. "Took you long enough. Now, I don't suppose you've seen a squirr- Hey, you aren't in uniform."  
  
"Yes I am." Janson said quickly.   
  
"No, you aren't."  
  
"You can't prove that."  
  
"Yes, I can-"  
  
"Would you risk your life on that?"  
  
"Well, no, that's stupid - "  
  
"Then you can't prove it."  
  
"What? That doesn't even make _sense_ - "  
  
"It makes perfect sense. Your mind is just closed."  
  
The man stumbled over his next words, paused, and then spoke again. "That is not Starfleet regulation uniform!"   
  
"Yes, it is - wait, Starfleet? What the Sith is Starfleet? This is the official uniform of the New Republic Starfighter Command."  
  
"Now I know that you're making _that_ up." The man - who, if you haven't guessed already, was Flounderberry, mumbled under his breath something along the lines of 'on a Starship and not knowing what Stafleet is...', and then he looked up again. "You know what? I'm going to report you to Captain Kirk. What's your name?"  
  
"Lieutenant Wes Janson, Rogue Squadron, New Republic Starfighter Command. Currently stationed at Bu Mrusian." Wes answered, knowing exactly what was going on and having fun dragging the poor guy along.  
  
"What - Rogue Squadron? Bu Mrusian? What in the galaxy is the New Republic?" Flounderberry asked, completely bedaffled.   
  
"Alright, I'll come clean with you. The New Republic is a top-secret project headed by Starfleet Intelligence." Janson didn't even know if there was a Starfleet Intelligence, but he assumed that there was and ploughed on regardless. "Rogue Squadron is a small part of it. It's all about getting small little ship called 'Starfighters' that are too fast for large Capitol Ships such as this to aim at and hit, but, with enough of them, Starfighters would be able to destroy a capital ship."  
  
Flounderberry's jaw dropped. He had no idea...  
  
Janson continued. "Bu Mrusian is a small planet we're based from several lightyears from your home planet."  
  
Flounderberry's eyes narrowed. "Hey! How do you know that my home planet is Earth, huh? I bet that you have my home planet wrong. Yeah, cough it up. What's my homeworld?"  
  
Janson blinked. Hadn't Flounderberry just told him what his homeworld was? Oh well. More fuel for the fires. "Your homeworld is Earth." He said easily.  
  
Flounderberry's eyes widened with something akin to awe. "How did you know..." He is not, as you can see, the brightest human specimen.  
  
"We know everything about you, Ensign... uh..." Janson searched his memory. What would be a name that nobody would ever have? How about... "Ensign Flounderberry. We know everything."  
  
Janson hadn't thought it was possible, but Flounderberry's eyes got even larger. "How did you know my name..."  
  
Wes nearly choked. He had guessed right?!   
  
"Uh... yeah, Ensign... we know everything. Of course, if you tell anybody any of this, I'll have to kill you."  
  
"But... how would you know if I said something?"  
  
"We know _everything_."  
  
With this, Janson turned away to walk out of the room, before he remembered his original goal in here. "Oh, and by the way, would you happen to know the direction to the mess hall?"   
  
Flounderberry nodded dumbly, and then gave him specific directions, fearing retribution if he messed up.   
  
"Thanks." Janson said when he was finished, and then went away.  
  
After a few minutes, with Flounderberry still standing there, his brain finally caught up. "Hey, wait a minute!"  
  
--  
  
The group had split up, deciding that they'd cover ground better if they weren't togethor. And so this was how Tycho found Wes.  
  
The way it happened was quite interesting, and, if it hadn't of been happening to him at the time, it might've elicited a chuckle or two from him. But it was happening to him, so it didn't.  
  
Anyways, how it happened: Tycho was making his way towards the mess hall, since he knew Janson, and figured that he would go there eventually, when he saw a vaguely familiar and welcome sight: The squirrel he had lost. It was standing at a cross-roads for the corridor, and on the other side. Tycho went stock still, as to not scare the animal away, when Janson came strolling along, and then stopped at Tycho's right.   
  
The three stared at eachother, none making a noise. Except for the squirrel, who was making little chirping noises, as squirrels were prone to do. Janson ran the possibilities of Tycho going after the squirrel, the possibilities of Tycho going after him through his mind, and decided that he had no idea what he was talking about. So, being Janson, he turned and ran towards the squirrel. The squirrel, understandably frightened, turned tail and fled. Tycho followed both of them, happy that they were going the same way.   
  
The squirrel pulled a hard left, and Wes, so used to chasing people and creatures, instinctively followed, closing in on the little animal. Tycho, not far behind either of them, turned the corner a little sloppily, and rebounded off the wall as he came. Unfortunately, one of the doors opened, and out came one of the crewman. Janson swore when he saw who it was - that dopey Ensign, Flounderberry. Upon sight of the little squirrel, who had gotten him stuck under a bed for hours, Flounderberry screached, turned, and ran away from the little creature. And so it was that they came upon Wedge, who was knocked over by Flounderberry, run over by the squirrel, jumped over by Wes, and on his feet in time to chase Tycho as he went past.  
  
It wasn't long before Flounderberry inadvertently led the group past Hobbie, who managed to jump out of the way in time to avoid being knocked over and picked up the pursuit after Wedge, wondering why exactly they were doing this. He didn't have much time to comtemplate before yet another thing happened.  
  
As they ran past, a closet door opened and out came a small, child-sized little furry creature, who stepped right in front of Wes. Wes tried to veer to the side, or stop, or anything, but falled and flipped right of the creature, landing on the other side on his back. Tycho, having more time and seeing Wes's fate, dove to the side and slammed his shoulder against the wall.   
  
Wedge, not privy to Wes's predicament and only wondering at Tycho's sudden manuever, was unable to do anything to stop himself from falling over the creature and landing on top of Janson. Hobbie made no attempt to get out of the way, but instead gave a mournful 'Oh, no' and landed on Wedge.   
  
Uninterrupted by all this, Flounderberry continued to run for what he thought was his life, and the squirrel continued chasing him, having nothing better to do.   
  
Tycho contemplated continuing the chase after the squirrel, but decided to stay behind and make sure everyone was okay. He walked towards them, and, while they were untangling themselves, looked at the creature who had caused the pile-up, and broke into loud guffaws, which dissolved into a fit of laughter that didn't end for quite a while. Janson, crushed on the bottom, and being a natural prankster and joker, shoved Wedge and Hobbie off of him and looked to see what was so funny, and soon suffered the same fate as Tycho.  
  
Hobbie soon followed them, being on top. Wedge shoved the hysterical pilot off of him, sat up, and looked at the creature. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs at the unfairness of it all. But he indeed did feel a chuckle coming on, and then a laugh, and soon he was rolling around on the deck with the rest of them.  
  
Oh, and in case you were wondering, the creature was an Ewok. 


	4. Laughing & Insulted

Disclaimer: Why do I keep doing this? Everyone knows that I'm not making money off this and that the stuff doesn't belong to me. 'Cept Flounderberry and the squirrel, and of course the plot. Whenever that thing decides to rear its ugly head, just know that it's mine.

Okay, so we're on the fourth installment, still looking for a decent title. I really don't have anything special to say about this chapter.

Oh, and no Redshirts were harmed in the making of this chapter. Wait... there were all of those stunt doubles for Flounderberry. I must've gone through a dozen of 'em before I got the scene the way I wanted it...

--

Chapter Four

It was, for many reasons, Tycho who recovered from the shock and humor of seeing an Ewok in a galaxy not his own first. That is, he recovered first. For multiple reasons. That I, also for many reasons, don't wish to go into at the moment.

Anyways: Tycho recovered, and soon after that Wedge pulled himself togethor, too. Then they sat in to wait and see how long the Ewok would just stand there being laughed at, and if it would get fed up with it before Janson and Hobbie got tired. Eventually they took bets.

Hobbie slowly stopped laughing, worked as hard as he could, and succeeded, in wiping the grin off of his face, and resumed his usual dour position. He then turned his back to the Ewok and refused to acknowledge it's existenced, and to this day he would deny ever seeing an Ewok outside of Endor.

After a longer while still, the most unexpected thing happened: the Ewok spoke.

"Why you laugh at me?" he demanded of Janson.

That stopped him short. Wes blinked, stood up, and gaped. "No way!" He shouted.

Wedge didn't need this. He really didn't. So he turned to Tycho. "The Ewok didn't just talk, did it?"

"The Ewok talked, Wedge." Tycho said, equally shocked.

"You're not all pulling a big joke on me, and we're not all sitting in sims back on Coruscant?"

"We're not pulling any jokes, and we aren't on Coruscant."

"I'm not insane?" Wedge asked, fearing the answer.

Before Tycho could respond, Wes cut in. "That's debatable."

Wedge glared at Wes. "You're not helping!"

"Is he ever?" Hobbie asked.

"Well, he is if he's killing people. Assuming that you're not part of those people." Tycho responded.

"Hey," Wes shouted. "I have my uses!"

"He's right, y'know." Wedge said. "If there ever was a call for immaturity, Wes has answered it."

The Ewok spoke again. "Why you laugh?!" He seemed to be getting angry.

Wes covered up quick. "I, uh, wasn't expecting to see an Ewok here... This is a bit far from our own galaxy, and we thought that we were the only ones here. Uh, yub yub?"

The Ewok blinked. "That's okay... What your name?"

Tycho jumped in. "I'm Tycho, the one who laughed is Wes, the one refusing to acknowledge your existence is Hobbie, and the last person over here," Tycho gestured, "Is Wedge. What's your name?"

"I have no name. You name me?"

Wedge opened his mouth to speak, but never got a chance.

"Sure!" Wes shouted, a big grin on his face. "You can be named Kettch!"

Wedge scowled.

The Ewok smiled. "Kettch. Me like. Where me sleep?" He gestured towards the supply closet he had come out of. "I woke up there."

Wes spoke before anyone else again. "Sure! You can sleep in me and Tycho's room! Right, buddy?" He threw his arm over Tycho's shoulders.

Tycho looked imploringly to Wedge. "Please. You make me bunk with Janson. Okay, I can handle that. But give Janson an Ewok and I may join these Starfleet people."

Kettch looked at Tycho. "What wrong with Ewok? You insult me!"

"No, no, no!" Wedge said, quickly. "There's nothing wrong with Ewok's. It's just that Tycho has had bad experiences with your wonderful race. And Janson here...well, he's another story for another day."

Kettch absorbed all of this, and then looked at Tycho again. "You insult me!"

"I'm sorry, Kettch - I am! I didn't mean it, I wasn't thinking," Tycho implored.

"You insult me!"

Hobbie interjected his thoughts. "It looks to me like the good Ewok here won't accept your apology, Tych. I suggest you offer to share your quarters with him." Hey, it could work.

"Hobbie, are you sure that this is a good idea -"

"You insult me!"

"Okay, fine," Tycho said, throwing his arms up, "You win! Kettch, I offer to share my room with you. It would honor me if you accepted."

"YOU INSULT ME!" The little twerp roared. They really have a pair of lungs on 'em. This little guy really _can_ make 'Yub, yub' sound like a war cry - or, in this case, he could make the words ' you insult me' a war cry.

"Hobbie, it's not working!"

"Hey, I'm a fighter pilot, not a miracle worker!"

"_YOU INSULT ME!!!_"

"Ugh, this is so illogical..." Tycho said.

Wait, what did he just say? And what did Hobbie just say? Did they just say what I think they said...?

Okay, that's enough foreshadowing. Back to business... Let's see what happened since I started foreshadowing...

"Oh, gods, he's eating my spleen!"

That's not good.

The Ewok wasn't the one to do the attacking, actually... and it wasn't Tycho who's shouting, coincidentally.

Ensign Flounderberry, still being pursued by the squirrel that Tycho brought with him, ran in just as the foreshadowing binge began. He tripped, and the squirrel, purely in what it believed to be self-defense, jumped up on the poor Ensign and began attacking him.

Picture this: A 24-year-old man, with a skinny build, rolling around the ground, in the fight for his life with a squirrel... and losing.

Hard to believe, huh?

Now picture that the same man is wearing the red shirt of Starfleet security.

It makes so much more sense now, doesn't it? In fact, looking at it this way, it's amazing that he's lasted as long as he has, especially considering that not too long ago he had been trapped under a bed for several hours.

Wedge quickly moved, and ripped the squirrel off of Flounderberry's face. This would probably be a good time to note that Ensign Flounderberry's spleen was not, in fact, eaten. Or even poked. Flounderberry just panicked. Really, really panicked.

"Calm down, man!" Wedge shouted, tossing the squirrel over his shoulders into the waiting arms of Tycho. Tycho caught the squirrel with ease, and as it entered his arms, it stopped struggly. Tycho lifted an eyebrow almost to hair-length, but decided not to comment.

"It's trying to kill me!" Flounderberry squealed. Most everybody there put their hands over their ears. Flounderberry also has a set of lungs on him, comparable to the set on the Ewok. One could even make an argument that his set is even BETTER then the Ewok's, but that argument would be flimsy, at best, until you showed Flounderberry a sharp object. Then the Ewok would lose all support.

"It's just defending itself!" Hobbie shouted, irritable.

"It is not defending itself." Tycho interjected, his voice smooth, and calm. "If it were defending itself, it would have knocked the Ensign off of his feet, and then continued to run."

It's happening again...

McCoy chose this moment to come around, having heard that there was a commotion around here involving a redshirt, and figuring that he'd save the man the troop and come straight to him. "Good god," He moaned, upon hearing Tycho's little conclusions, "All that time with Spock, touring the ship, it rubbed off on you!"

"What?" Tycho asked. "What are you talking about?"

"You sound just like Spock!"

"No way..." Tycho looked dumbfounded. "But... I've barely spent an hour with him!"

"Well, it's happening." McCoy said. "It may not be that, though. Maybe your mere presence in this universe is corrupting your personalities, and making you more like people in this universe."

What? Did McCoy really just say that? Blast it, McCoy, didn't you read the script?!

"Bones," Wedge said, "Why did a disembodied voice just ask you if you read the script?"

"Wait a minute - you just called me 'Bones'. Nobody calls me Bones, except for Jim! Oh, god, you're being corrupted by Jim... Last thing we need around here is two Jim Kirk's..." McCoy continued on mumbling a little bit.

Hobbie looked irrate. "Well, we can't just stand here, we have to do SOMETHING!"

"You know..." Wes said, looking at McCoy. "It sounds like you're corrupting Hobbie..."

"Don't be ridiculous." Both McCoy and Hobbie at the same time. They looked at eachother, mouth's open. "Oh, God, it's true!"

Wes looked at his three friends, McCoy, Flounderberry, and Kettch.

Then he broke out into a big, wide grin.

"I'm gonna have a lot of fun with this..."

--

It's never a good thing when Wes grins like that, is it? Well, that's all from me for now. 'Til next time, which could concievably be a very long time...


	5. Risks & Sniffs

A/N: Wow... been awhile... Like, nearly half a year, or something like that? Sorry to all whom I've kept waiting. Kinda... yeah. Sorry. Lots of stuff happened that I don't really want to get into. To be far, I did warn you that it could be a very long time before I updated again, though.

Now For Something Completely Different - Part the Fifth

Wedge seemed, for all intents and purposes, fairly unconcerned with Wes' proclamation of his ability to have fun with this development, a development that smelled suspiciously plot-like.

"I don't see how you could joke at a time like this," Tycho said, a frown attempting to make its way onto his face.

Oh wait, no, that wasn't Tycho. That was Spock. Apparently, sensing something exciting or at least interesting occuring, he and Kirk had made their way to, incredibly, the very same deck everybody else was on. Small world, huh?

"Wait, you heard all that?" Hobbie looked concerned. Why is anybodies guess. It's not in the script that McCoy seems to have a habit of reading. Bloody overachieving actors...

"Who cares?" Wes asked. "Anyways, if you three are being corrupted, what's up with me? I mean, there's no other really main character for me. Do I just get cast to the wolves?" Damn them. I just had that Fourth Wall fixed.

"No," Wedge said dramatically. "It is the attempts of some ancient deity, whom I have defeated in the past, to make my life more miserable by keeping you just as you are, and making sure you are unharmed and stick close to me at all times. I'll clearly have to take this ship and find them, and defeat them once more."

Kirk frowned. "That sounds risky."

"Yes... It will be risky..." Wedge agreed. "But risks are our business."

A knowing smile played across Kirk's face. "Yes... when man first looked "

Frantic attempts from both McCoy and Spock shut the two of them up. "Yeah... he's definately becoming Jim." I really wish they would go easy on those copyrighted lines... I'm not made of money.

Wes, meanwhile, was frowning. "I thought that our business was the impossible, Wedge."

A spell seemed to be broken, and Wedge shook his head. "Yeah... it is. What did I say it was...? Ri-" He broke off that line of verbal thought at threatening gestures from McCoy.

Kirk scoffed. "The impossibility is a foolish business to be in. You'll never succeed. The business to trade in is risks - you risk it all, and, if you win, come away with it all. And, I, Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise, never lose. But dealing in the impossibility?" He scoffed again. "Never win."

"_This_," growled McCoy, "From the man with no respect for the laws of physics."

"Bones, let's not get into that now."

"Your mother would be _very_ disappointed at your lack of respect, Captain." Wes joked.

Spock looked as if the illogic and impossibility of this all was about to make his head explode. And Tycho, too, for that matter, though to a much lesser extent. The moment passed, however, and he remembered that he was dealing with humans, squirrels, and little furry kamikaze psychopathic teddy bears. That mere phrase rolling over in his mind nearly sent him back to the verge of collapse, but he got over that, too.

Tycho, however, didn't have the experience Spock did when dealing with the utter insanity, randomness, and illogic of his peers. Tycho handled it his own way, which was walking to a wall, and beginning to hit his head against it. Nobody noticed.

The newly-dubbed Kettch inspected the newcomers (Kirk and Spock, for those who've forgotten... You know you're out there.) suspiciously. He walked to Spock, and sniffed. "You smell big-head."

Spock didn't seem to have a response, and ignored it. McCoy, however, _did_ have a response, which was to laugh. Long and hard.

Kettch moved to Kirk deeply again. "You smell... " He didn't say anything.

"...yes?" Kirk asked, looking down at his new friend. "I smell...?"

"Maybe it's just a general statement, Jimmy." Wes opinioned when Kettch didn't say anything more on the subject (A silence that surely has nothing to do with the authors lack of ability to find a simpleton word for 'egotistical'), and walked to Flounderberry, who flinched. Flounderberry slowly tried backing away from the menacing psycho-bear, who paused, and sniffed deeply once more. "You smell no-guts."

Flounderberry frowned. "I smell no-guts? What does _that_ mean?"

"It means you're a chicken," Hobbie voiced.

"Hobbie would know," Wes added. "He is one."

Flounderberry frowned further, and tried to lift an eyebrow. He didn't know why, but he saw Mr Spock do it all the time, and assumed he would look smart if he did it, too. He abandoned that attempt when he realized that he couldn't lift one singular eyebrow. "A chicken? Uh, I'm sorry, but I'm human, and so is - "

"You're a bloody coward!" Someone shouted. The culprit hasn't been identified.

A look of calm washed the frown away from Flounderberry's shirt. "Oh. Well, everybody knows that. I mean, why else would I be wearing _red_?"

"The man," Kirk said slowly, "has a point."

"Ach!" Scotty said, seemingly from nowhere. "Ah wear red, laddy, but I'm no coward!"

"Well, uh, I know that, uh, sir, but, you see, the thing is... AH! SQUIRREL!" The villainous squirrel that had plagued our poor Ensign since Chapter the Second had made a reappearance, and caught Flounderberry's attention. The Cowardly Defender lept behind Kirk, and cowered there, until the squirrel made a slow, menacing approach. Flounderberry squealed, and bolted, babbling about how the 'deadly squirrel of doom was upon them' and that there was 'no hope for survival' as 'your weapons are as nothing compared to the ferocity of the squirrel'.

Utter nonsense, but it was just the luck that he happened to run by an active intercomm as he screamed it, and it got broadcast throughout the ship.

The whole thing.

To dozens, if not hundreds, of redshirts.

Can you imagine the utter chaos that would follow such a proclamation?

If not, I'll help.


End file.
